


Familia

by Sakuraiai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Happy Ending, M/M, The Empty (Supernatural), True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: Cas wasn't gone.Dean wasn't going to believe that his best friend, his angel, was up and dead. He couldn't do that. No way. There had to be a way. There had to be something.They had killed Death, taken down God, Amara and all those god damn assholes. It wasn’t going to end like this. Dean wasn’t going to let it end like this.He wasn’t just going to sit idly by anymore and mourn the death of his best friend, his…his god damn angel. He was going to take down the Empty and get his Cas back.He yanked the phone from the ground and held it to his ear. Sam’s voice picked up, but before he could say anything, Dean stated with determination in his eyes.“We’re gonna gank the Empty and get Cas back,”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, ish - Relationship
Comments: 19
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well...this was bound to happen.  
> Because what the hell even was the last episode.
> 
> This isn't a fix it, this is me yelling into the void and hoping it yells back.

_'When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.'_

The night was sweeter than it had been the night it had happened. Which didn’t make any sense to Dean. How could the world just continue on as normal. How could every one expect him to go back to his normal routine and forget the one person who had been an integral part of his life for the past twelve years.

_'The price was my life.'_

The beer bottle dropped from his sweaty grip and hit the ground with an audible thud, beer sploshing out and staining the demon marked cement ground. But Dean didn’t notice. He didn’t notice anything. Not anymore. 

_'When I would experience a moment of true happiness. The Empty would be summoned and it would take me.'_

His gaze flickered to the wall. There wasn’t a mark on it, not even a nick, or a stain, or anything. Just the metal and cement of the bunker, just the sloppily painted sigils and symbols in the black lacquered paint, the panelled walls and the iron shelves, and the god damn chains stuck to the ground.

'… _forever.'_

A week had passed. A whole week.

_'I always wondered, ever since I took that burden…that curse…I wondered what it could be…what my true happiness could even look like.'_

Dean still came here, every night since, when he knew Sam was out doing an errand, or asleep, or just busy with whatever the hell he and Eileen did on their dates. He didn’t want Sam to see him like this. To see him mourning over something that happened so…so quickly. The whiplash of having him there, having him _right there_ , and then...and then nothing.

_'I never found an answer because of one thing I want, but something I know I can’t have.'_

Dean came here, every night since, when he knew Sam was out doing an errand, or asleep, or just busy with whatever the hell he and Eileen did. He'd open the door to the empty room, sit down on the ground where Cas had thrown him to save him, to protect him, and just try to figure out what he could have done, what he could have said, that would have...saved him. His grip tightened on his jacket, the one where Cas's blood stained hand print lay, a perfect print both on his skin and on his jacket. He would just sit here and try to come to terms with what had happened. What he had witnessed. 

_'I think I know now. Happiness isn’t in the having, its in the being, it’s just saying it.'_

He reached for the dropped bottle and grunted as he took another long swig of the now warm beer, hoping, wishing and praying that he wasn’t here. That it hadn’t happened. That Cas…

_'I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way out enemies see you; you’re destructive and you’re angry, and you’re broken. You’re daddy’s blunt instrument and you think that hate and that anger…that’s what drives you.'_

He grimaced as the beer burned his throat, smooth silk and familiar as he tried to take another hit. But the bottled slipped slightly from his shaking hands. Pressing his other hand to the neck of the bottle, hoping to hold himself steady, he forced himself to drink again. An illusion. A hallucination. A nightmare. 

_'But it’s not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad; you have done for love.'_

He growled at the sickly familiar taste, the burn. Wishing this was all just some mad djinn hallucination, or some fairy shit or something. Hell, he’d even take the son of a bitch trickster archangel returning and fucking with him one last time. But it wasn't. He was still here and Cas was still...he must have returned along with the others. He must be finding his way back, right? Anything was better than…

_'But its not, and everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.'_

God was powerless. Jack was the new god. He had brought everyone back, he had brought his family back. He had done everything perfectly. Except for one thing.

_'You raised your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world, for love.'_

Dean’s gaze flickered to the wall again. The pristine wall, only hit with the snicks of his knife, gauges of the blade slicked into the cement. The trials of his pain, his aching, his anger, his greed, his selfishness. His want, his need. The wall was filled with his yells, his screams, his cries.

_'This is who you are. You are the most caring man on earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.'_

Denial had morphed into anger when Cas had done that. Anger at the Empty, at the thud, thud, thudding sound of Billie’s fist pounding against the wall. The look on his face, those teary blue eyes, the trembling of his lips. At the emotions lodged in his own throat as he stupidly stood there, shock thrumming through him. Unable to speak. Unable to do anything but watch him. 

It couldn't have been real. It had to be a dream.

_'You know…ever since we met…ever since I pulled you out of hell. Knowing you…has changed me. Because you cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam…I cared about Jack…but I cared about the whole world…because of you.'_

Bargaining had never been a thing. Who would he ask? Who would he bargain with? Jack had gone off the radar while he fixed heaven — or at least that was what Dean had thought he was doing — and he had told them that he wasn’t going to be so hands on. Dean understood. Dean preferred it. He didn’t want another God who was like the previous one. The one who preferred a good story.

_'You changed me Dean.'_

Why did it sound like a goodbye.

_'Because it is…'_

Fuck, he felt sick, he felt faint. His heart beat maddened, weeping for what he had lost. What he could no longer have. Why hadn't he said anything, why hadn't he held Cas close to him. Why hadn't he _done anything!_

_'I love you.'_

The almost empty bottle smashed to the ground, the warm beer splashing in a neatly growing circle by his feet. He gripped his shaking and sweaty palms to his chest, his breathing shallow, choking and hot. He slumping his head down onto his bended knees, trying to get his body to respond, to relax. But his breath came out harsher, heavier, chest aching.

_'Goodbye Dean.'_

His phone buzzed in his hand again, shocking him from his thoughts. Taking a cursory glance, he saw Sam’s name flash again for fuck only knew how many times that night. Hadn’t…hadn’t he been out on a date or something? Why was he calling him? He knew he should pick it up, he knew he should at least tell his brother that he was okay. That he wasn’t ignoring him. But he just couldn’t do it.

His phone buzzed again, slipping out of his fingers and onto the beer stained floor. After a moment of silence, the phone buzzed again, this time by Eileen. And he knew he should at least attempt to pick up the phone.

He just…couldn’t.

_Son of a bitch._

He couldn't believe it. He _wouldn't._ Cas wasn’t gone. Not really. He was still out there, still alive. Still kicking. He just wasn't here. Dean wasn’t going to believe that his best friend, his angel, was up and dead. He couldn’t do that. No way. There had to be a way. There was always a way. There had to be something. They had killed Death, taken down God, Amara and all those god damn assholes.

It wasn’t going to end like this. Dean wasn’t going to let it end like this.

He wasn’t just going to sit idly by anymore and mourn the death of his best friend, his…his god damn angel. He was going to take down the Empty and get his Cas back.

He yanked the phone from the ground and held it to his ear. Sam’s voice picked up, but before he could say anything, Dean stated with determination in his eyes.

“We’re gonna gank the Empty and get Cas back,”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to do my best to tie up all the loose ends I saw when I watched the finale.  
> But I don't want to make this another massive thing (I say that all the time, and it never works out the way I want it) so you'll hopefully see all the oldies but goodies.
> 
> We will ride to Hell together!  
> Hopefully Rowena is nice enough to give us a spot of tea!

“Run that by me again?”

Sam stared incredulously at his brother, wondering just what was going through his head. Sure, he understood the need to get Cas back. Cas was like a brother to him, he was family. But…well, going into Heaven or Hell was easy — the latter far more easier than the former, now that they didn’t _have_ Cas to poof them up or down.

He had…he had mourned for Cas, hell he was _still_ mourning for his angel brother. When Dean had told them that Cas had gone, they really hadn't had the _time_ to mourn. But once they had taken down Chuck, and everything had been restored, Sam had taken a moment, a long moment, to really sit and mourn everyone he had lost along the way. He hadn't been alone, Dean had been right there with him. But if this was Dean’s way of mourning for Cas, then Sam needed to get him back on the right track.

“We’re gonna get Cas back,”

It sounded so simple when Dean said it like that, with so much determination and enthusiasm in his expression. For a long moment, Sam actually believed they would be able to do it. Hell, why not? They had done so many other impossible feats before this, so why not crash land into the Empty, the one place they hadn’t really been into, and get Cas back.

They could try and ask Jack, he was god after all, and he had brought Cas back the first time. But it was almost impossible to keep track of the new god. Sam had prayed to him, a lot lately, mostly to thank him for everything he had done, everything he was doing. But he had been more determined every time he heard Dean’s door open in the middle of the night, heard the footsteps leading out of the hallway and down to the basement.

Sam had followed him once, wanting to see just what Dean got up to in the middle of the night. He hadn’t known exactly what had happened to Dean, or how Cas had been taken away by the Empty. Dean hadn’t really talked about it, other than telling them that Cas was gone. But he was sure it had to do with the basement. They had fixed the door leading to it, purely for security’s sake. After all, there were still monsters that roamed the earth. They had used that room once or twice when one of the younger hunters would come in with a demon that had fallen out of Rowena’s path and was being extra tricky.

He watched as Dean would sit against the wall, pressing a hand to his shoulder — the one that had Cas’s hand print on, and just stare at the wall. He had wanted to go inside too, many times he had to force himself to stop. Dean didn’t appreciate being watched when he was like this, when he was vulnerable.

It hurt Sam to see him like this.

He knew how Dean was grieving for Cas. How much pain he was in that he had lost his best friend, his…lover? Hell, it wasn’t a surprise to Sam how much the two loved one another. It wasn’t shouted out at the world, they weren’t open and welcoming about it. They kept everything quiet, like it was just for them. Something special and warm and exciting that they wanted to share with one another before they told the world — or at least told him. Which was how Sam had expected Dean had wanted it.

He had known years ago that the two were definitely more than just ‘best friends’ or ‘family’, as Dean constantly told him. Maybe Dean had meant a more permanent fixture for Cas, but they hadn’t gotten to that part yet. They had been through apocalypse after apocalypse that it was becoming a joke now. Thank god that was all over. But in that, it meant Cas was no longer here. He couldn’t imagine what Dean was going through.

It hurt Sam to be away from Eileen, especially when he had found out that she had died. Her coming back as a ghost had quenched an ache he had deep in his chest. Which had been fully lifted when he had finally brought her back to life. Losing her again because of god’s vanishing act had made him more angry than anything else. But she had been waiting for him after Jack had righted everything.

She had been the one to call him, the one to tell him how much she loved him, how scared she had been, how they shouldn’t wait any longer. He had been ecstatic, he had immediately agreed and they had been together ever since.

But there had been no sign of Cas.

Dean didn’t get to see Cas, his _boyfriend?_ Sam didn’t have a problem with his big brother being gay, or bisexual or whatever the hell he was. He did get why they kept their relationship a secret from the others. But why keep it a secret from him? He had wanted to ask them, countless of times, wanted to shake them and tell them that he knew, he _fucking knew it!_ But they hadn’t, and he didn’t want to pry until his brother was ready. It must have been a wild ride for Dean to find out that he was in love with his male best friend.

But that was neither here nor there. Sam understood the pain of losing a loved one. They had lost too many people after all. But he got it, Cas was…well, he was different. For Dean, he was more than just another family member.

They had that profound bond thing after all.

“Look, I get it.” Sam stated, sitting opposite his gleaming brother and trying to get his head around just what Dean was expecting them to do. He had thought, with God replaced by a much better one, that they could have a moment to just rest and relax. “I wanna get Cas back too, but we can’t just walk into the Empty’s hideout and force her to give Cas back,”

They lasted a week in their reprieve from it all, trying to get back into the routine of things. A week of waiting for Dean to come to him, so they could mourn Cas together. He still hadn’t talked to Sam. And Sam was sure he was still in the denial phase. He was asking to crash into the Empty’s lair after all.

Then again, Dean was missing his boyfriend. Sam would have been the same if it were Eileen after all, hell he’d be the same if it were fucking Gabriel.

Hang on. Gabriel.

Wait…why was he thinking about Gabriel? The archangel hadn’t been on the forefront of his mind for years now. Why was he suddenly — maybe…

“I was thinking about that,” Dean stated, leaning back on the kitchen chair. He placed the beer bottle on the table and played with the label. “So like, we need to summon the Empty right, to get into it? There’s gotta be some lore around here that’d help us,”

“We searched,” Sam stated, pointedly. “The first time Cas was in the Empty, we looked everywhere and we found nothing,”

“Well maybe we didn’t look hard enough!” Dean growled, pounding his fist onto the table. It didn’t scare Sam, he was expecting Dean to be like this. To be somewhat unhinged. But his anger faded, shattered into a sad, faraway look. “I…I asked Jack…he—he isn’t replying,”

“He said he was going to be less ‘hands on’ right?” Sam intervened.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “He lost his dad, you know, you’d think the guy’d care—”

“Dean,” Sam tried to placate him before he went off on a tangent. “I don’t…I don’t think he _doesn’t care._ He said he wasn’t going to be hands on, yeah, but that means he must’ve given _us_ a…I don’t know, an out, a way to find out what to do. He wouldn’t just leave his dad in the Empty, right?”

“You saying…” Dean paused, peeling the label of the bottle. “You think he’s like…gonna give us a sign, or some shit?”

“I…I just had a weird thought,” Sam replied, “Maybe…look hear me out yeah, but maybe we can like summon… _Gabriel?”_

“The trickster asshole?” Dean cried, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. “No fucking way, do you remember what he did to us the last time? What he did to _you?_ ”

Sam nodded, remembering the hotel, killing Loki, and everything that had happened after. _Everything_ that happened after. There was a reason why Sam kept Gabriel’s memories in a locked box at the back of his mind after the archangel had died. But…there had to be a reason why his memories came back to him in this moment right? Jack had given them free will, but he was sure Jack was also nudging them forward.

“There’s no harm in trying, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so torn...Sabriel or Samleen?  
> I adore them both, I really do. Oh my god, what am I to do?


	3. Sprite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Gabriel...
> 
> Also, I don't want anyone to be freaked out by the new tags, yes I did write Sabriel and Sam/Eileen, but I was so on the fence about which one I would choose. I've always been a Sabriel simp, but I love Eileen. As a fellow hard of hearing person (though obviously Eileen herself has it a lot worse than I) I was glad to see the representation, and I adore her and Sam together.
> 
> But my Sabriel heart was like...I need to see Gabriel happy too.  
> Hopefully this...works? Maybe? Who knows.  
> I just want them all to be happy!

Summoning an archangel should not be this easy.

But then again, Dean thought to himself, after all the shit they had been through every time they tried to do anything summoning-like, was most likely piss poor due to the douche bag Chuck holding the reigns. He must have been fucking something up to make his story all the more enticing and exciting for himself.

But now it seemed, with Jack doing that whole 'subliminal signs in the right direction' quip to make sure everyone still had free will real and centred, it was surprisingly easy. The sigils and markings on the ground seemed surprisingly soothing, smoother and more...well, he wasn't gonna say perfect, but they weren't as sloppy as before. His memory of regurgitating the asshole archangels from wherever the fuck they had been, was actually pinpoint perfect, if he did say so himself.

Then again, it only seemed right, after all they had the summoning of angels and demons down to an art form.

Alright, fine. He was stalling.

Dean threw the last ingredient into the pot on the ground, letting out an internal elation when it burst into a dull flame in the pot, mixing with the other ingredients inside. Rolling his eyes as Sam chanted the familiar Enochian incantations for summoning the trickster dick to the world, he watched on, not wanting, neither needing, to be a part of this part of the shit show.

They had lasted a good week without worrying about any supernatural entities. But god damn it, he needed Cas back. If only to just...have him back. Dean was really missing his low drawl, the one that sounded like rolling thunder and heavy rain...not that he noticed or anything. It wasn't like he missed the way Cas's nose scrunched up cutely whenever he was confused, or the way the corner of his eyes crinkled whenever he was happy. Or the way his hands moved whenever he had his angel blade in his hands. And he definitely wasn't thinking what it would be like to have something _else_ in those hands, something connected to him, son of a bitch, those hands on him would feel fucking --

Not that he was thinking like that.

Yeah. Because he wasn't. All he wanted was his best friend back.

Hearing that Cas had...confessed to him. It had shocked him, floored him. He hadn't...well, he had heard every word, and it had made his heart beat madly, but his breath catch in his throat. But the impending doom, with Billie at the door, and with the fucking Empty being summoned. Dean hadn't been able to take anything in.

It had all happened so fast. He had still been in fight or flight mode with death literally following their heels. And Cas...his...Cas had told him he was going to die. For him. To save him.

He was happiest just telling Dean how he felt? That he...loved him? Nahuh, no fucking way. He wasn't going to get away with that bullshit. Cas was not just going to confess and die. That was a dick move, and Dean was going to bring him back, just so he could yell at him. And then maybe kiss him.

Ye-no, not kiss him. No, he was angry at the angel. Right? Yeah. He was angry that Cas had just sprung all of that shit on him and bounced. Yeah, Dean was angry at him. But if it lead to anything more, he wasn't going to stop hi...

Fuck.

The markings on the ground lit up a golden colour, sparkling like glitter and a disco ball mashed together. He watched, enthralled moreso now than before. His attention was taken by the small spark of gold in the centre of the room.

"Dude," He started. It didn't seem right. It was a small flicker, barely there.

Had...had Jack not brought Gabriel out of the Empty? He had brought back everyone else, there had been this whole bullshit huzzah about how all the archangels were up there in heaven, making everything right. Well, at least that was what Jack had told them. The archangels -- sans Lucifer and Michael -- because, for what he knew, those two had been killed by God -- and Michael ganking Lucifer with the archangel blade.

Maybe Gabriel hadn't been resurrected -- or what the fuck ever -- and this was...what? Another fucking sign or something? Maybe they wouldn't be able to get him back, and that meant that without Gabriel's help -- not that he was sure how that shit was going to work, but Sam seemed to have some kind of idea, he hoped -- they wouldn't be able to get Cas back.

Hell wasn't really sure if it would work, they hadn't seen Gabriel since that whole bullshit with the alternate worlds Michael. Who knew if he even was alive, or if he too was sleeping in the Empty.

No, he wasn't going to think pessimistically anymore. He was gonna be all positive. Yeah, they were gonna figure this out. Even if he had to pull Gabriel outta that ball of light by his fucking wings.

"Hey Gabe," Sam's voice was so soft, so small as he stepped over the painted sigil on the ground and over to the small ball of light. Dean watched, infatuated, as Sam slowly held his hands up to it, curling his fingers around the small ball of light. "You're...back,"

Fucking hell, no way was that little bit of light the asshole archangel. That...that couldn't be, right? But Sam was looking at it with such...fuck...reverence, it was impossible to think of it as anything else. Right? Maybe Sam knew, maybe Sam could feel it?

He wasn't sure just what was happening, but he really didn't want to have to tell his brother that the little ball of light was...well, just that. It couldn't be an archangel right? Weren't they all like, graceful and shit? Weren't they supposed to take over a vessel and be all holy and shit?

"I'm sorry man," Sam continued, lifting his hands up, following the ball of light as it flitted back and forth in his large palms. Was Sam able to talk to it? "How are you gonna...what do you need?"

"Uh...Sammy?" He started, "wanna share with the class?"

Sam looked up then, his eyes a little hazy, as if he were going to cry. But he had a smile on his face. He held the ball of light in his hands, fingers curled around it as he brought it close.

"Gabriel." He stated simply, as if that would answer all the questions he ever had. "He's not got a vessel, because it was destroyed in all realities, so he's like...this is what he can show us without burning our eyes,"

Dean nodded, not really knowing what else to do at that moment. If...if Sam believed that was Gabriel, then Dean was...probably going to believe him too. Right? There wouldn't be another bullshit agenda they would have to stop now, right? Jack wouldn't do that to them, would he? They had been scorned so many times before, he wasn't sure what to believe.

He saw the ball of light fizzle a little, shivering and shaking in Sam's hands, before it zipped out and thumped harshly against Dean's groin. He hit him hard enough for the hunter to double over in pain and catch his breath. Dean groaned at the sudden pain, putting pressure on the ache.

"Alright, so..." Dean cleared his throat, shaking the pain away and standing up straight. "Yeah, that's the dick bag, fuck Gabriel,"

The ball of light returned sluggishly back to Sam's hands, and fell into his palm, his light a little dimmer now than it had been before. Fuck, that didn't seem good.

"Use me," Sam stated, gazing intently at the fading light in his hands.

Wait, what? Dean straightened himself out and made his way over to his brother. "What?"

"No, look, you're low on grace," Sam stated, speaking directly to Gabriel. He held the light up to his face, narrowing his gaze. "And I want to help, let me make it up to you, so use me, god damn it,"

"Sammy, you sure?" Dean asked, "how can we trust him? He's a trickster, after all,"

Sam glared at his brother, pressing his hands to his chest, the ball of light held between the space of his palms, shining a little brighter.

"Trust me," he stated, to both of them. Dean paused. He...he wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, if they had Gabriel back to full health, then they'd be able to figure out a way to get Cas back. Hell if a nephilim could wake him up in the Empty and have the shadow creatures spit Cas back out, then maybe Gabriel could do the same?

He...of course he trusted his baby brother. But sometimes Sam had a weird complex. Then again, if anything were to happen to him, Dean was going to torture the asshole archangel piece by shiny piece, until he wished he were dead.

Sam nodded, once again. "I give you my consent,"

The ball of light seemed apprehensive, shivering and shuddering a little, zipping back and forth in Sam's large hands, before finally settling down in the middle. He seemed to tumble over a little forward, as if he were nodding.

Sam raised his hands to his chest, letting Gabriel settle against his shirt. The ball of light shuddered a little, but stilled. It pressed up against Sam's chest, before submerging itself in. Sam let out a long breath as he did so, his face contorting a little before falling peacefully into a smile.

Ah fuck, he didn't want to unpack _that_ right now.

Sam's body held a healthy golden glow for a few moments, his body arching a little at the new intrusion, before he settled back to his normal, casual stance. He held a hand to his chest, pressing his palm flat against his heart.

"Sammy?"

Sam looked up at him, blinking once, twice, his eyes turned a weird golden colour, a little brighter than his usual eyes. They seemed to hold the glow that had been around his body. But he smiled brightly, skin a little better for it, not as shallow and sunken as it had been for the past few months.

He seemed...better.

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam stated clearly, his voice holding a smile. "He's...resting? I think, but I can feel him. It's...warm..."

Yeah, no. Dean wasn't going to go anywhere near that with a barge pole. He instead let out a small smile, glad for the win, and patted his brother on his back. Silently telling him that if anything happened, he tell him. Sam nodded, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"Gabriel had a plan on getting Cas back,"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the most...wonderless time of the year.  
> Goodness gracious, this year has gone to hell in a hand basket. And hey, we still have one more month left before 2021 graces us with a whole other year of...stuff.  
> I wonder what could happen?
> 
> Task for you.  
> Try not to think of Ron Weasley.

The plan on getting Cas back was not what Dean had expected it to be.

When Gabriel had told them about this place - which was a hell of a trip, by the way. He had sort of _taken over_ Sam, the same way Gadreel had done all those years back, and had acted all snarky, yet not as much of an asshole as usual. Like he was actually trying to be civil and good. It was fucking weird to see his brother like that, that was for sure. - Dean had expected them to do some breaking and entering into homes, barns, covens or even caves. Chanting some weird ass spells or enchantments that he’d have to remember and pronounce correctly. Maybe they'd even have to do some blood letting or blood magic or some shit. As per their usual shtick when it came to crap like this.

But what he didn’t expect was to sit down on a hard, but overstuffed sofa in a froufy little house in the middle of nowhere, drinking tea with a lovely looking old granny.

Well, she sure as hell _looked_ lovely. But there was definitely something off about her. Dean wasn't sure what it was, but he had been on high alert ever since they had gotten out of Baby and had stepped foot onto her property. The hairs on the back of his neck had been standing up ever since she had sat them down and offered them tea. Her face was wrinkled, her clothing was old and long and soft looking, her entire house smelled of weird cabbages and moth balls. But the tea she offered — or more like forced into his hands — was sweet and almost fruity in a weird way. Fuck, everything about this was weird.

She looked like any old lady.

They’d been here, sitting on the hard yet stuffed cushioned chair for almost an hour now, and Dean was starting to get a little pissed off. Why couldn’t they just hurry this shit along please. Like now. He didn’t have any time to wait around here drinking tea and eating dumb ass biscuits — even if they tasted amazing — he really needed to get what they came for and get Cas back.

“So, which one is it?” The old woman asked, setting her tea cup down on its saucer the table silently, giving them both an intense look.

Dean bristled. “What?”

The old lady pointed her clean cut nailed finger at Sam, smiling warmly. But there was still something weird about her, something that kept them both to high alert. They had been burned way too many times before by people who looked and acted good, but were evil to the core. Who knew what this woman was. She hadn't given them her name, and neither had they.

She leaned in a little closer, peering over the table and getting as close as she could to the both of them. Her long, curly white hair falling to frame her wrinkly, yet pretty face. In tandem, both Sam and Dean leaned as far away from her as they could. Which wasn't very far, as they were pushed back against the overly stuffed back of the sofa.

“You’ve got an archangel in you, dearie.” She pressed her finger to Sam’s chest. Sam’s gaze darted down to her finger and then up to her face. God, she was so close. “I just want to know which one,”

“Not happening, lady,” Dean growled, placing his hand directly in her face. She wrinkled her nose, but moved back to her seat. There was a small smile on her face when she looked at Dean. “Just give us what we came for, and nobody will get hurt,”

“Hmm…maybe I should be asking _you_ instead,” She called out, whizzing almost immediately to Dean’s side and settling on the sofa next to him. How the fuck did she do that? He hadn’t even seen her move! Just one minute there, and the next _poof!_ Grandma on speed. “Which _seraph_ is in you?”

Wait, what the fuck was she saying. What seraph was in him? There wasn’t god damn angel possessing him, was there? Sam hadn’t told him, and he definitely hadn’t been having any blackout or weird moments or some shit like that. Like the way Sam had been when he had been possessed by Gadreel. He crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging away the woman’s hold around his shoulder. Fuck, she was strong for an old lady. “I ain’t got no angel in me,”

“Oh? Is that so?” She leaned back on the sofa, crossing her arms over her chest, and crossing her legs at the heel. She gave him a look, another one of those long, intense ones that made Dean’s insides crawl. Her gaze fell then, to one that looked worried. “Oh, so you…you really don’t know?”

“What don’t I know?”

She zipped back onto her chair in front of them, reaching for her teacup and taking a sip. All this fucking running around was going to give him whiplash. She placed her, now empty cup of tea back onto the table.

“He…well, he did quite a number on you.” She continued, giving Dean a look, mostly at his chest, as if she saw something there other than his shirt and flannel. He shuddered, and not in the good way. What the fuck was this old woman? “It’s surprising you’re not aware of it. But I guess you’ve always been a little hard headed, must be all that stuff your dad told you,”

He bristled again, a frown forming on his face almost automatically. He paused, not sure why the fact that his woman was talking bad about his asshole of a dad was making him feel this way. “Don’t…don’t talk about my dad,”

“Hmm…no bite,” She wrinkled her nose almost cutely, but didn’t sound like she was nerved by them. She sounded somewhat ancient, like she knew way too much, and wasn’t that fucking perfect. Dean was ready to thump the next person who kept things away from him all because they wanted to be mysterious and shit. It didn’t help anyone. “Alright, let me explain it to you then,”

Thank fuck for that.

“Actually, it’ll be easier if I show you,” And with that, she was right in front of Dean, her hand splayed out over his chest, nails a lot sharper now and eyes a pure white. Dean didn’t even have the time to react. He was pushed back onto the sofa with the lady standing right in front of him. Sam yelped from next to him, but before his brother could actually do anything, the lady smiled brightly.

She pulled her hand back and from the centre of Dean’s chest, came a small ball of _familiar_ light. Similar to Gabriel’s weird pixie light when they had summoned him. But in a pure _white_ colour. It almost blinded him with how bright it was. He let out a breath, knowing that the thing wasn’t from the old lady, but from inside him. There were thick tendrils that seeped into him from the ball of light, as if it had been yanked out of him and was grasping for a way back inside him again.

His body felt cold. Like arctic. “What the fuck…?”

The old lady held it up to her face, making the tendrils stretch a little more. Dean didn’t understand why his body moved with them, why he was eager to have it back inside of him, rather than glad it was out. Who the fuck had put that in him in the first place? Not many people had the jump on him, especially with something that screamed _angel._ She had said it was a seraph, and the only seraph he knew that he was in close contact with for god only knew how many years was Cas. But…that wasn’t…him…was it?

Nah, it couldn’t be. Something that good didn’t happen to him…it wasn’t like they had a profound bond or— ah, fuck. Yeah. Okay, so maybe they did. But that didn’t mean that Cas had what, left a part of himself inside of Dean? When had he even _done this?_ The only time Dean had seen his grace was when they were in need of it, or when Cas was bleeding out, caught by bad guys and needing to be saved.

Did that mean this…weird pixie ball of light had been inside him…from the beginning? Maybe…from when…when he had first met Cas? Or maybe even when he had been in hell for all those years? Cas _had_ dragged him out of hell, after all. Maybe he had…had he left a part of himself inside him? Was that what he meant by _profound bond?_

Fuck, he was just confusing himself. This shit was not helping. Why was he even _thinking_ about that at a time like this?

The old lady straightened out her glasses, the chain jingling against her earrings as she did so, and peered closely at the ball of light. “That Angel of Thursday did a number on you. It’s pretty big, and that makes my job a _lot_ easier,”

Angel of Thurs— so it _was_ Cas. How else would she know? Was she actually able to help them? Did she have what they needed? A way to summon the Empty and get Cas back? Or had listening to Gabriel only led them down a pointless path? That dumb ass archangel was a bit of an asshole when it came to things like this. Dean could appreciate the pranks, they were always awesome when they weren’t solely on him. But if he was making them do a god damn stunt or some shit, he was going to yank that fucker out of Sam and gank him.

“Will…will this help?” Sam asked, leaning close to the ball of light, watching it as closely as the old lady had been.

“What the fuck is that?” He asked, ‘cause, alright. So that right there, that was…well, _maybe_ it was Cas, but like a remnant or something. But what exactly did it mean?

“It’s like…” She paused, juggling the ball in her hands a little before pressing them straight back into Dean’s chest. Dean let out a breath, feeling a _lot_ warmer now that the light was back inside him. That was fucking strange, and it felt…fucking weird, that was for sure. But after the weirdness kinda settled, he felt like his old self again. “It’s kind of like a beacon, or sorts.”

When the other two looked pressed for more, she continued.

“Think of it like an Castiel radar for you,” she stated in lay mans terms, so both of them could understand. It was the first time she had outright said his name, and it was then that Dean was sure that the ball of light inside him was _indeed_ Cas. “And its like a lighthouse light for him,”

Dean was confused. No, not confused. He got what she was saying. This little ball of light inside him would be able to tell him where Cas was, probably when they were in the Empty, and that Dean would basically be a beacon for Cas to find him. But that didn’t answer just how the fuck they were going to get _in_ to the Empty.

“I have something for that,” she answered, getting up and slowly making her way out of the room, keeping the door open behind her.

Dean hadn’t noticed he had been talking out loud. Sam pressed a hand to his shoulder, just under where Cas’s hand print was scarred onto his skin — the one and only thing he had left of Cas, that and his previous trenchcoat he had left all those years ago when he had swallowed the god damn Leviathans — and patted him softly.

“So…yeah,” Sam started, whispering and leaning closer to Dean. “You think she can really help us?”

“She’s not been wrong so far,” Dean replied. It was true, she had been right about pretty much everything that had been going on. She knew he had Cas’s…grace — or whatever that light show was — inside of him, and she knew who Cas was. All they had done was show up at her house, once Gabriel had given them directions, and told them they needed to talk to her. She had been the one to silence them, usher them into her home and get the kettle on. They had told her they simply wanted to know if they could summon the Empty, and if she had any clue on how to do that.

He hadn’t exactly been all that positive about it. If the Men of Letters hadn’t been able to find a way after scouring years upon years of hard research and actual practicality, and had not even _known_ about the Empty, what could this old lady do? But she had known, she knew everything about the Empty —well, almost everything. She hadn’t really told them how they could summon her, or if they _could_ summon her at all. He still wasn’t so sure if that was possible. Cas had made a deal with the thing after he had been killed — and from what Dean knew, the Empty was like a psuedo heaven for angels, so no human or otherwise had been there before — and he had only been able to fully summon the Empty when his deal with her had been finished.

Fucking dumb ass deal, but he’d yell at Cas once he had him in his arms.

They didn’t need to say anything to the old lady, not really. She didn’t know there name, and they didn’t know hers. She didn’t want to give it up, just in case they were ever interrogated and her name came up in their conversations. God damn paranoid woman, but he didn’t care. As long as she could help him.

She came back a few minutes later, holding a small box in her hands. There were some ancient and archaic looking sigils and wardings in them, some that even Dean hadn’t seen before. He had brushed up on Enochian and Latin and all of that crap after he had gotten into the business, but these things definitely predated anything he had known. She placed the box in the middle of the coffee table, brushing their teacups and plates aside to give it some room. She ran her hand over the top of the box, and a small latch at the very front of it clicked open. Dean watched, alert yet intrigued, as she opened the lid and fished for whatever was inside.

“What the heck is that?”

A bauble, like one you put on a fucking Christmas tree? Was this woman trying to have a laugh? It was a shiny, silver bauble, or at least a ball with a small hook at the top. But upon closer look, Dean saw there were slightly blue and green markings on its front, like a weird swirling language that he definitely couldn’t understand or make out.

“I’m offering you an…alarm clock of sorts,”

Sam reached for it, but the old lady slapped his hand. She handed the bauble to Dean, who reached slowly for it. She pressed it into his hand, curling his fingers around it. It was light, almost weightless, and the swirls seemed to move within the bauble itself.

It was oddly mesmerising, kinda therapeutic, like looking at fish in a fish tank. He was kinda enthralled with the wispy colours.

“An alarm clock?” he asked, his voice low and taken by the ball.

She nodded, closing the box lid with a snap, bringing Dean out of his trance. “It’s something that will wake up the shadows from their deep, _deep_ sleep.”

"Alright, thanks." Sam replied, grabbing onto Dean's arm and hoping it would at least help him out of the weird trance he was back in again. There was definitely something strange and powerful about that ball. He could feel it, hell even Gabriel inside of him was beaming a little warmly now, as if he was glad his plan had worked. Sam just hoped it was a good idea, and not that Gabriel was trying to trick them. He wouldn't do that to them, would he? Shaking his head, he focused on what he did know. And that was that the ball in Dean's hand was basically a bomb. But that didn't really answer all of his questions. "So, can you help us get into the Empty? Or how to summon her?"

The old lady gave them both another intense look, before leaning back on the sofa and letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry boys, she never told me how to do that."

"She?" Dean asked, intrigued now. "She who?"

"The Darkness, my dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting all my ducks in a nice, neat row.


	5. Authors Note - Apology

I don't usually do this.   
And I really didn't want to, or expect to. 

To all of you lovely people who read any of my fics. I'm sorry I've not been updating as much as usual lately. 

Unfortunately I've been hit with some extremely bad news over the past few weeks, one which has caused me physical problems as well as mental.

My usual livelihood had been disrupted and put into a standstill pretty much. My tumour has revolted and is seething for revenge, and my body and joints etc are paying the price.

Writing and doing any form of art is either extremely slow, or extremely painful. I wanted to continue but I just can't keep up with it. 

Updates are going to go on pause for now. So, I am so very sorry. I will return as soon as I can with more for you lovely readers. I just need some time to rest and recuperate.

I love you all, so dearly.

Thank you for your support, and kudos and comments and we'll wishes and everything in between.

I am so sorry guys!   
I'll be back as soon as possible. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think?


End file.
